


The Spy Game

by fleurdelysee



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Criminals, Espionage, F/M, Humor, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-25
Updated: 2013-10-19
Packaged: 2017-11-19 12:32:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/573297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleurdelysee/pseuds/fleurdelysee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur wants to take over the world. However, his path to world domination is difficult when a rogue Russian spy is sent after him and a perverted Frenchman is doing everything in his power to annoy him. If only his intern wasn't such a useless git!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Evil chapter 1

Alfred was the quietest he had ever been as he walked slowly along the wall. He was holding a small pistol in his hand and was ready to shoot if necessary. The hallway was very silent except for his breathing that he couldn't control as much as he wanted to. He could feel his heart beat fast in his chest, fuelled with adrenaline. He might not get out of this one alive. Suddenly he heard some footsteps behind him and he jumped in surprise. He quickly turned around and was met with a giant Russian assassin who was suddenly running towards him, knife in hand.

"Die you filthy commie-bastard!" Screamed the American spy as he shot his pistol, aiming for the Russian's head. It was a perfect shot and blood and brain pieces exploded every where. It was disgusting which meant that Alfred couldn't stop laughing in glee.

"Lets kick some more Russian ass!" He exclaimed as he continued to walk towards the control room where there was a bomb waiting to be taken care of. This time, however, he ran since his last kill must have alerted someone. A pistol was a very noisy weapon. It was sad that he had lost his knife earlier in the game...

"Alfred! What the bloody hell do you think you are doing? Stop playing! We have some work to do!" Screamed a voice in the background.

The American was momentarily distracted and turned around, seeing his boss looking at him, his face red with anger. When he looked back at the screen he was disappointed to see that he was killed by one of those commies during the two seconds he wasn't looking.

"Ah, dude! You made me lose! Against Russians!" He complained in a whiny voice.

"Why don't you get your arse off the couch and do something useful! You are working for the Evil industries now and this means that when I order you to do something, you do it!" If it was possible, Arthur was screaming even louder than before. I'm sure he could be in the "World Guinness" book just for his screaming, usefully thought the American.

"Ah, I'm sorry man. What did I forget to do this time?"

"You forgot to bring me tea," said a still angry, but no longer screaming, Arthur.

"I'll be right on it sir! Earl Grey, no milk, no sugar, as usual?" Complied the young man, although he was a bit angry himself. He was a trainee, damn it! Not a lackey! He was supposed to learn how to be an agent of evil, not how to make tea. Who drinks tea anymore anyway?

"No. I'll have the English Breakfast today."

Now that Alfred was bringing him his cup of tea, Arthur was ready to start working on his new plan...the last one was a total failure, thanks to a certain Frenchman!

\- - - - - 

"Kesesese! That was so awesome!" Exclaimed a man.

"You really did outdone yourself, amigo." Added another.

"It was great, wasn't it?" Said Francis, rather proud of his accomplishment.

He and Arthur were long-time rivals. So ten years ago, when Arthur had founded the Evil industries, Francis had felt the need to create his own Company that would try to take over the world. Thus Machiavel Inc. was founded. With the help of his two best acolytes, Gilbert and Antonio.

More recently, Arthur had tried to get some top-secret documents from an American governmental base that specialized into electronics and new technology. He had prepared a flawless operation and sent his best agents to do the job. These agents were surprised however when instead of top-secret documents they found a fresh red rose. Francis had gotten to the documents first, which was a great coup of itself. However, it was nothing compared to what happened next.

Someone had alerted the base security that someone might try to steal those specific documents and they didn't lose their time in apprehending the criminals. The spies managed to escape, obviously, since they were professionals, but not before letting out who they were working for. Which meant that Francis had the documents that Arthur desperately wanted while Arthur took the blame for the thievery and became a target of the C.I.A. It also meant that Francis was acting even more like an arrogant prick than before.

The best part of this whole thing however was when Francis sent a postcard of his genitals to Arthur with a note.

'If you want to have your precious documents you will have to get a taste of this.  
Hope to hear a response from you soon. Love, Francis.'

"We should celebrate by opening zis bottle of wine!" The Frenchman exclaimed while brandishing a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon.

"Papa?"

Francis turned around and met the inquiring stare of his son. He smiled gently and greeted his son with a kiss on a each cheeks and a bear-hug.

"Oh, chéri! How was your trip? I missed you so much!"

"It was fine. Um, papa? Why did you take out the Cabernet Sauvignon? I thought you were keeping it for a special occasion?"

Francis was slightly taken off guard. He didn't expect his son to be back from his trip already and, as genuinely happy as he was to see his son, he hadn't prepare a lie to explain this behaviour.

"Um, yes. You are right. Why don't you explain, Gilbert?"

The Frenchman brushed off the glare that he was sent, happy with his fast thinking. Mathieu turned his stare towards the albino man, patiently waiting a response to his simple question.

"Well, you know your dad owns a..." What was it again? Oh yeah! "...modelling agency, right? Well, business has been really well lately and some magazine asked your father if he could participate in an interview for a special edition about handsome entrepreneurs in the fashion industry. Oh yeah, I'm good!"

Mathieu shrugged and chose to ignore this last statement. Francis and Antonio were both staring at their friend, not really surprised by his ability to invent lies but still amazed.

"What magazine?" Nonchalantly asked Mathieu while making himself a glass of wine.

"Enough about me, mon coeur. How was your trip? Did you like Switzerland?"

\- - - - -

"I got it! I finally know how I'm going to take over the world! Muhahahaha!"

Arthur tried to bring his cup of tea to his lips but realize that he didn't have one.

"Alfred! Where is my cup of tea?"


	2. Chapter 2

"Braginski!" Called an excited voice.

The Russian spy didn't bother looking up from his heavy making out cession with his newest employee. He wasn't particularly attracted to the delicate brunette in front of him but, in between two contracts and a lawsuit, the man hadn't had the time to squeeze in his weekly lay.

"I'm busy. You can talk to my secretary." Growled the man between two grunts of appreciation.

"I would if it weren't for the fact you were snogging her."

Ivan was a busy man. Which is to be expected of an internationally renown rogue spy (although Braginski liked to refer to himself as a mercenary). Everybody in the spying world had heard of his exploits; how he had defeated an army with a pipe as sole weapon, how he had dismantled a bomb with his teeth and how he liked to squish his enemies to death by sitting on them (thus, the lawsuit). He would have received a Nobel price for peace-keeping if it weren't for the fact that the man was a real sadist and was once found surrounded by corpses, laughing in glee and drinking some blood (well, that last part was only a rumour...as far as people know).

Sighing, the spy let go of his potential lover and dropped her on the ground. The brunette let out a shriek as she fell, but made no complaints. She didn't want to upset Ivan too much as he had a really bad temper.

"What do you want Toris?" There was a menacing edge to the Russian's tone as he glared at the man who had interrupted him. He didn't even glance at his new secretary as she left the room.

"I have a new case for you," replied an unperturbed man. He was rather use to his companion's PMS-attitude.

"No." Ivan's tone left no room for negotiations.

"But..."

"No," interrupted the Russian. "I am currently enjoying a well-deserve vacation. I do not owe anyone anything. I am not sorry."

"I understand. However, this is your chance to get back at the C.I.A!"

Toris interpreted his friend's silence as an invitation to continue. "On July the fourteenth, at approximately two-fifteen in the morning, two spies robbed important documents from a secret C.I.A. base in New-Jersey. Since then, the American agency has attempted to arrest a criminal mastermind, Arthur Kirkland, better known as the founder of the Evil industries."

The man suddenly grew very excited and, after catching his breath, resumed his explanation. "If you manage to arrest that man before the C.I.A, the (pussy) agency that has dared publicly criticize your "less than orthodox methods" and question your abilities, you could show them...how much better than them you are!"

It was now Toris' cue to be silent. Ivan was thinking and no one interrupted a thinking Braginski unless they truly wanted to have their head smashed by a pipe. The Russian had a lot to think about. On one hand, he didn't have to prove himself. He already knew that he was better than the arrogant agency. On the other, he really hated those arrogant capitalists-pigs who thought they were better than anyone else.

"Give me more information," he finally said after a long silence. "And some vodka." Toris smiled in delight and avidly filled-in his friend on Kirkland's recent activities while taking out a vodka bottle out of his jacket (he had come prepared).

______________________________________________________________

Alfred couldn't stop laughing. He couldn't help himself. In his defence, Arthur's new plan consisted of dressing up in a weird dress and asking his fairy friends to stop spreading happiness in the world.

"Dude, I knew you were crazy but this is too much!" The American resumed his obnoxious laughing and tried to keep a serious face when he met the furious glare of a red-face Englishman. "I mean, it sounds like you took this idea straight from a Disney movie!"

Arthur was sputtering and struggling to keep his countenance. He wouldn't lose face in front of his intern...it was only an intern after all. "Do you have a better idea in mind?" He replied dryly.

"How about we open a new fast-food place, one that is even better than McDonalds! Then we could make people addicted to our fabulous hamburgers and force them to comply to our will in exchange of the best hamburgers ever!"

Arthur could only stare at the American who seemed to be very pleased with himself. The mastermind then proceed to hit the git in the head.

"Only you would be willing to enslave yourself in exchange of a hamburger," he sighed.

"Hum, and it wouldn't work anyway. Your cooking sucks," seriously added the young man.

Once again, the Brit was sputtering in anger and trying not to slaughter his idiotic intern.

"Go to your room!"

Alfred stared at his boss in amusement. "What?"

"Go to your room...NOW!"

"Okay...mom!" the American then left the room, laughing like a maniac and running away from a murderous Arthur.

"Maybe Alfred was right," sighed the Englishman. "My plan is a bit...simple. I need something grand! Something that people won't ever forget!"

"May I suggest something, sir?"

Arthur jumped in surprise and quickly turned around to face his new speaker. He was met by the joyful face of his advisor...whom he had forgotten about.

"Yao? Hum, yes. Go ahead."

"The Evil industries will never be able to take over the world alone. Such a task demands a fully develop network which involves as many branches of society as possible. You will need some insiders in the government, for one...and maybe in the military and in the media. You will also need access to monetary funds, to advance weaponry...and..." Yao stopped talking once he caught the other man's look.

"So, you are saying that I am in need of...allies?" Arthur sounded wary of the word.

Arthur Kirkland didn't trust anybody. Not even himself at times. He couldn't trust anybody to do the job right. This was part of the reason the man wanted to dominate the world in the first place. That and his mother never loved him, which might or might not have been the cause of serious emotional damage.

"Maybe allies is too strong a word...but yes," carefully agreed the Chinese man.

Both men were silent for a while as Arthur reflected upon his advisor's words. It made sense. Even the most accomplished of King would need the help of others to maintain an Empire. However, he would have to pick his allies very carefully.

"Did you have anybody in mind?" He finally asked Yao.

"My younger brother is starting to get quite influent in the technology business. He could easily provide us with the latest gadgets and weaponry...once I talk him into it. I also took the liberty of starting some conversations with the local Mafia. They are wiling to start negotiating a partnership with us." The advisor brighten his smile.

No matter the seriousness of what they were discussing, Yao was always smiling. It was like the man was always happy! This annoyed Arthur to no end (as he was rarely in a good mood). He only kept Yao because he appreciated the other's brilliance and competency.

"Good work Yao. See if you can persuade your brother to work on our side. I have heard of his exploits and do not question your judgement on the matter. However, I will need more information about this local Mafia you mentioned."

"Of course. Well, it is led by two Italian twins..."  
______________________________________________________________

_On a faraway plane..._

"You better watch out, Kirkland. You will soon find yourself suffocating under the wrath of my posterior."

No one dared look at the Russian man as he started laughing evilly in the middle of the plane.


	3. Chapter 3

Ivan's airplane had landed at the London International Airport an hour ago at about nine thirty at night. Which means that, by now, the spy could have been having a lovely evening in the four-star hotel, enjoying some vodka in a giant hot tub filled with deliciously sexy women (or men). Instead, he had to be held hostage by the customs officer about some _questionable_ articles Ivan had in his suitcase.

"I sincerely do not know how this...thing could have gotten into my suitcase, sir," innocently said the Russian man. And he did look innocent. His beautiful purple eyes were opened wide, almost taking a childish appearance, and his lips had taken the form of a humble smile.

"You do not need to justify yourself mister Braginski. It is not the first time that we have found a vibrator in someone's suitcase." It was obvious that the customs officer was trying hard not to smile too much. "It must have been turned on during the flight; our detectors probably detected the movement and mistook it for a bomb."

The Russian sighed. It was the third time that the situation was explained to him. All he wanted right now was to know where his luggage was and get to the closest bar. Sadly, the hotel hot tub would already be closed by the time Ivan managed to get out of the damned place.

"Where can I get my luggage?" He calmly (or as calmly as he could) inquired.

"Well, about that...I'm sorry to say that, since the airports' detectors reported a bomb in your luggage, you won't be able to get your..." The employee froze in place as he felt the dark aura that was slowly crushing his soul. He turned around and stared at the Russian who still looked as innocent as ever.

"Where did you say my luggage was?" Gently inquired Ivan.

The officer gulped loudly and looked around him nervously.

"Th...this way, sir." He then guided the scary man towards the customs office that was at the other side of the airport. He couldn't get there fast enough, he thought as the scary man beside him starting laughing.

"Kolkolkolkolkolkolkol..."  
_______________________________________________________

Back in Russia, a small girl was impatiently waiting beside the phone. Her whole body was tensed and she was frowning. She almost seemed frozen into place, like the painting of a girl anxiously waiting for her lover to call.

"Big brother should have arrived at the hotel and opened his luggage by now..." she said, reflectively. "Maybe he hasn't found my special gift yet."

The thought was very disappointing. The girl had spent many hours shopping for the perfect instrument, wrapping it and writing a nice little love note in which she demanded that he marry her.

"Well, no worries." She brushed off her disappointment and smiled softly. "We will get married soon anyway and then, he won't need those toys to keep him occupied."

The girl then started to smile, a crazed look in her eyes.  
_______________________________________________________

Mathieu was calmly sitting in his Queen-size bed, appearing indifferent to the world around him as he tried to lit a cigarette. Let me reassure you, the young boy didn't smoke. Gilbert, however did.

"Want one?" offered the blond boy to the naked man sitting beside him.

The Albino stared at the younger man in disbelief. How could Mathieu so innocently offer him one of his own cigarettes after...well, what they just did? He self-consciously pulled the covers over his (gorgeous) body and quietly accepted a lit cigarette. He needed a smoke to calm down his nerves.

How could he ever explain this to Francis? The man would kill him! Then, he would accuse him of rape and cut his genitals off before killing him again!

Maybe Gilbert could run away and take on a new identity? No, it wouldn't work. The Frenchman had too many connexions...

Gilbert was taken away from his thoughts by a pair of arms that placed themselves around his waist. He looked down to see the little minx that was the cause of all his problems smiling at him. Once again, he felt his heart beating faster at the adorable sight. The man always did have a soft spot for cute things...and for cute best friend's sons. For the hundredth time that night, the Albino cursed his weakness.

"Are you nervous, Gilly?"

Gilbert cringed slightly at the unawesome nickname. He chose not to answer and delicately pushed back a string of Mathieu's hair behind the boy's ear while tightening his grip on his cigarette.

"I think it's cute that you are nervous." Mathieu sounded very amused by the whole situation. "But don't worry. I won't tell papa anything." The boy had whispered the last words.

The older man sighed in relief and was about to thank the boy when Mathieu said something that stopped him cold.

"Under one condition." The boy's eyes were shinning mischievously and he grinned slightly as he continued. "That you tell me what papa has really been doing while I was away."

Then, the boy looked up at the albino and battered his eyelashes innocently, a malicious glint in his irresistible amethyst eyes.

 _I'm doomed_ , realized Gilbert.


End file.
